Gingerbread and Snow
by Candy
Summary: While cooking gingerbread a certain girl is wishing for a snow fall... RR?


Authors Note:

Candy: Well, now I haven't been around in ages… want an explanation? OK

I HAVE ENTERED HIGH SCHOOL!!!!!!!!!!! *gasp*

Yeah, I'm not in 8th grade any more, folks… time has caught up with me, and it's been giving me a swift kick in the ass. Also, I've been busy with my "acting career". Yes, yes… you may be seeing Candy on Broadway someday… *cough* maybe…

Anyway, Holiday's are coming around… and I noticed that I have never written a Holiday fic in the past… 3 years that I've been here.

It's time to write one.

Oh! And for those of you newbies who don't know/remember me… I'm Candy… I'm a big Link/Malon shipper… I love romance stories… and am in the process of writing an epic story: The Legend of Zelda: Destiny's Child… 

A side note for the story: The Eve of Winter's Noel is a Hyrulian version of Christmas… So when the characters say "Happy/Merry/Good Noel…" you know what they're getting at.

Enjoy the fic!

PS.

" means: "talking"

' means: 'thinking'

Disclaimer: I never made it as a wise man… I never made it as a poor man… I MADE IT AS A POOR WOMAN!! Bwahaha!

Gingerbread and Snow

By: Candy

__

"I wish I could be all that you mean to me

My angel without wings…

My angel…"

~ Fenix TX, You're My Angel

The white outside matched the sugar she was planning to dust the small cake with, she noticed, her hands kneading the dough gently preparing it for baking. Her eyes, cobalt and shining, squinted as she turned the dough over, flour rising in a puff of smoke as the lump hit the wooden countertop. Soft twilight flittered through the glass of the kitchen window, illuminating the skin of her hands as they skillfully worked their magic kneading. Softly, she hummed to herself, the green of her skirts swaying softly as she bobbed from side to side slowly and subconsciously. Her eyelids appeared droopy and tired, but she was alert.

Alert to the outside.

Every so often, if you watched closely, you would see her dark lashes raise ever so slightly, and the blue depths would leave her work and float to the window before her. The eyes would sparkle in the orange of sunset and search a moment. Then, apparently not successful in her search, she would lower her eyes back to the constant kneading… and she did this all with the grace and subtle poise of a true lady.

Strangely enough, she was not one. For a lady would not be, dare she suggest, kneading dough on the Eve of Winter's Noel. No, she decided, they would be about their manors, draped in gowns of silk and satin… blues, golds, silvers, greens, reds, whites, and blacks… an awkward rainbow of the Noel season spreading across a dance floor or a parlor discussing politics, perhaps. Shrugging, she regarded the visions of regala with general distaste; she needed nothing other than the small bunt cake she was busying herself with.

Well…nothing other than snow, that is.

The last Frosty Noel she'd experienced was when she was a girl of seven… shyly prancing about the farm and Hyrule Market Square in her new scarf and skirt, trying her best to look nonchalant, but at the same time looking completely enthralled. She remembered the snow balls she chucked at the younger children, laughing in mirth as they fled in every direction, hands atop their heads hiding from the flying scoops of white.

She remembered her mother catching snow flakes on her tongue with her in the morning…

She glanced subtly out the window once more, sighing softly in the silent kitchen. It seemed to be louder than the slight ticking of the clock, or the gentle flutter of the cuccoos wandering around in the next room. She was so used to silence. She was a quiet person, generally shy… Well, she had been 8 years ago… but after she saw that funny boy in the square of Hyrule Market, something had clicked… and like a brilliant butterfly bursting from a cocoon, she broke out of her shell, and flew forward.

She smiled a small, delicate smile at the memory. The awkward blushing on both their parts was enough to make any bystander giggle inwardly and take notice of the two children looking remotely out of place. But neither of them had really noticed what a strange pair they must've made. It wasn't as if they even cared, anyway. 

In her dazed, reminiscent state, she failed to notice the light rapping at the door of the house. Her father, dozing in the upstairs bedroom, obviously didn't notice it ether. Her humming, and his snoring drowned out the noise from the freezing temperatures outside. Placing the dough on a wooden slab, she moved to put the slab over the fire. Only then, did she notice the rapping turn to full on knocking. She turned her head in the sound's direction, her hair dangerously close to the flames licking the base of the metal grate, upon which the wooden slab and dough rested.

Curious, as she always was, she straightened herself and walked towards the front door in the other room. A cream colored arm reached behind her and untied the apron she'd had round her waist. Now stained with flour and egg whites, the fabric looked as if it had experienced a rather bloody war… the fabric being the loser of the campaign. Tossing the garment aside on one of the comfy armchairs in the main room, she reached out and turned the slightly rusty door knob to the right. Pushing the door forward, the cold air pushed its way through without invitation, and made itself at home. Snow dust fluttered at her feet, blowing about in the breeze. She smiled up at the visitor, her familiar friend. Her cheeks, rosy with cold, molded with her lips into a welcoming smile. "I was just thinking of you," she said, her eyes sparkling, "I swear you're psychic or something…"

His eyes, blue as hers, shined back as he leaned against the doorframe… his blue scarf blowing in the wind. "Well, you know when you hang around sages, you pick up a thing or two…" he winked casually, still leaning against the frame. "What are you up to?" She shrugged, and folded her arms across her chest, "Noel cooking, mostly…" A beat, " would you like to come in?" He shrugged. "I suppose… I mean it is only damn near freezing out here… I could come back ano-" She grabbed his sleeve and yanked him playfully inside the dwelling, "-Oh shut your mouth."

And he allowed himself to be dragged into the familiar setting. The smell of evergreen and sugar flitted about the warm air, and he inhaled it with a smile. This place… this little farm in the middle of the field… this beautiful friend of his… this season… it made him feel happy… special. Like he was a part of something. Flipping his bleached bangs out of his eyes, he dropped the blue scarf over one side of a wooden chair as he plopped his posterior into its seat. "So," he questioned, noting the scent of baked goods, "what's cookin… literally?"

Rolling her eyes at him, she fell into the chair opposite his, and leaned her chin on the table top. "Ginger bread." She yawned quietly, "I've been up all morning fixing the dough." He looked at her funny for a moment, sniffed the air, and leaned back in the chair. "It doesn't smell like Ginger bread…" He licked his lips hungrily, enticing a smile from the baker, "either way, I'm hungry… and you cook good-"

"-Well," she corrected him.

"You cook well…" he continued, "So I'll be staying for dinner or desert or whatever… and eating your…" He sniffed the air, and bringing his fingers up he made a quotation mark motion, "Ginger bread."

Smiling, she turned her head to the side, her hair spilling over half the tabletop. He took notice, and leaned back crossing his arms casually. "It got longer…" She looked up, noting how his eyes had changed to a deeper shade of blue as he stared at her tresses, "I like it…" he concluded quietly. She blushed politely and folded her arms on the table, giving her chin support. "Thank you," she murmured lazily. Her eyes fluttered a moment, then shifted to check the dough, which was now turning a lovely golden brown, then back to fluttering tiredly. He leaned forward, elbows on the table. "How late were you up?"

"Late enough…"

"Doing what?"

She paused.

"… You… you-"

He smirked.

"-You were doing me? Cool! Must've gotten me pretty drunk because I don't remember-"

"- Shut up, idiot. What I was gunna say was… well… you'd laugh at me."

"I'm pretty close to doing that already…"

"Oh, grow up."

"Hey I'm older than you are-"

"-Women mature faster than-"

"My ass, women mature faster!"

Then, rolling both their eyes like many times before, the teens leaned back in their seats, snickering to themselves. She looked over at him. The last bits of sunlight seemed to be weaving their way into his hair… wanting to nestle there and sleep… warm and cozy in his bleached bangs… 'Lucky rays of light…' She mentally smacked herself. 'Thinking crazy thoughts again, girl…" she chided in her head.

A moment of silence passed, and she stood, moving to remove the dough from the fire. She slipped on a nearby cow-print pot holder and reached out and gripped onto the bread slab's handle. Gently, she slid it off the stone top and away from the fireplace. Steam rose from the dark brown loaf of bread. She looked over shoulder at the boy, smirking smugly. "Gingerbread." She proclaimed triumphantly, setting it to rest on the wooden counter.

He stood and walked over beside her, hopping up and sitting atop the counter. "That," he nodded his head towards her baking, "is not gingerbread…" He took a near by spoon and tapped it on the bread, ellicting a hallow knocking sound. He smiled at her. "That is burnt to a crisp." And tossing the spoon in the air, it flew in a perfect arc, and landed neatly in the washing bin.

"Show off." She scolded, opening a drawer, and rummaging to find a knife. He merely chuckled and rested his head against the shelf behind him. "You know you love it." She applied pressure with the knife, and in a not so smooth manner, sliced a piece of bread. Popping a piece in her mouth, much to his distaste, she chewed and made an audible crunch. "Love and amusement," she countered, crumbs working their way out of her mouth, "are not one in the same." She continued chewing. He reached out a hand and patted her atop her head. "Don't talk with your mouth full, bad manners and such."

She glared at him and swallowed with a 'gulp'.

"Better?"

He smiled.

"Much."

"Well," She said breaking off another piece of gingerbread, "since I've appeased you…" She held it out to him, "Try some?"

He looked at the bread, then her, then the bread, and then wrinkled his nose. "It's burnt."

"No it's not!"

"That's like something a Dodongo would feast on during the Noel season-"

"-You are so rude! For the Goddesses' sake! Could you just for once be a man and-"

"-Oh for the love of…" He trailed off removing the bread from her hand, huffing. Muttering a short prayer to the Goddesses, he popped the food into his mouth, winced, and chewed.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Crunch…

"Hey!"

Crunch.

"This stuff's-"

Crunch.

Crunch.

"Pretty good!"

Swallow.

She smiled slyly and hopped up to sit beside him. She looked at him, her eyes matching her smile, then looked away to the heavens. In a mocking tone, she questioned. "Who told ya so…?" Sheepishly, while reaching for another piece… he responded. "You did." She nodded, her smile growing wide. "Mm hmm… I thought so."

Crunch.

Crunch.

"You thought right."

Crunch.

Silence engulfed the room, aside from the boy's crunching, the girls sighing, and the clock's ticking. Wiping his hands, and turning to her, he scooted a little closer, and placed his hands on either sides of him. "So… why did you think I was going to laugh at you before?" She turned her attention from inspecting the ceiling to his face, which was only inches away from hers. Awkwardly, she tucked a strand of hair behind her pointed ear and looked down. "I… Well… last night I was… I was up…" She forced her eyes to meet his own. "I was wishing."

"Wishing?"

"… for snow."

"Snow? But look outside… It's pure wh-"

"-I mean like… snowflakes coming down… It's been ages since I've had snow on Noel… last time was…"

He inclined his head as she looked away, craning his neck so he could hold eye contact with her.

"Was…?"

She looked away, sighing. "The year my mother…"

"Oh…"

"Yeah."

"I… wow, I'm um…"

"Don't be. It's in the past."

He shifted awkwardly.

"I suppose…"

She looked over at him. Her eyes seemed to waver with tears, but he knew she was strong… and no way would she weep in front of him. He didn't expect that from her. She was always so cheery… so witty… so caring. He smiled softly at her. 'My friend…' He reached out a hand, tucking the pesky strand of hair back behind her ear, gently caressing her face. "You have flour on your face," he murmured softly.

Her eyes, wide like a doe's, searched his uncertainly. "Oh… I'll wipe it off…" she trailed off miserably. The world seemed to get hazy around the two, and she noticed his hand was not moving from her face. She felt a force pushing her to lean in closer, to place her lips upon his smiling ones… Her eyes suddenly felt heavy, and she leaned forward, hesitantly.

SMACK.

The two teens, their eyes frantic, jumped apart and stared at the source of the noise  


Upon the floor was the loaf of Gingerbread, still in one piece, on its side, crumbs littered everywhere. Glancing shyly from the loaf to each other, they laughed awkwardly and hopped down from the counter both bending to pick up the bread. Their heads smacked, and they fell on their rears on the kitchen floor. Rubbing their foreheads, they giggled lightly at each other. The giggling turned to chuckling, and the chuckling to laughter. After a moment, it died down, and the boy stood and helped the girl off the floor. Smiling, she giggled softly, and turned her attention to the window. 

She gasped.

"Look!"

His gaze migrated from her towards the window and he smiled.

Snowflakes, gentle and virginal white, fell from the sky.

He glanced at her uncertainly, and then back to the window. Gently, his

arm found its way around her waist. Her head dipped upon his shoulder. He sighed softly and rested his head upon hers.

"Merry Noel, Malon."

She wrapped her arm around his waist and closed her eyes.

"Merry Noel, Link.

The scent of gingerbread danced faintly through the kitchen, and the two friends stood side by side watching the snowfall as the moonlight shone down on the small dwelling amid the winter's chill in the middle of the field…

And neither could ask for anything more.

~ End ~


End file.
